When No One Knows
by sangdulalune
Summary: Okay, so, what do you pick? the ravenhaired boy asked. Truth, the blonde answered. Then came the question. Why do you hate me?
1. Chapter 1

It was just another summer's day at Privet Drive. Harry Potter, not being able to practice magic outside of school, took up the new hobby of staring out the window, waiting for something new and exciting to happen.

This, of course, never did.

And then he would start going out, and getting in late. That's when Uncle Vernon took up his new hobby--beating him for disrupting his sleep.

This was just a joke to Harry as, he knew by many sleepless nights, his Uncle slept like a log. Nothing but perhaps his own snoring could've woken him up.

"Boy, what have I told you?" Vernon spat, emphasising every word with disgust towards his nephew.

"That...that it's disrespectful and selfish of me to come in at such a late hour when people are sleeping," Harry recited; he dared not look up.

"And yet here you bloody well are," his uncle snarled.

His breath smelled of liquor; he'd been drinking again.

Harry saw a knife out of the corner of his eye. He was, for once in his life, afraid of his uncle.

And then blood.

And then pain.  
----  
Dear Ron,  
Please come get me. Things are bad here...you don't know how much it would help if I could stay with you and your family.  
Please write back,  
Harry.  
----  
Harry sat on the floor of his room. The razorblade dropped from his numb fingers, and he closed his eyes, letting the blood flow make him light-headed.

His head hit the wall, and he heard a voice, seemingly distant, say his name.  
----  
When Harry woke up, there was a thick bandage around his wrist. His eyes were sore, the lids heavy, making it hard to concentrate on his surrounding environment. Clearly, though, he had left Privet Drive.

"Harry"

Harry fumbled for his glasses as a red mop of hair attached to seventeen-years-worth of freckles came bounding towards him.

"What?" Harry said, taking in the room around him. It was Ron's room at The Burrow. "How did I get here"

"I came and picked you up, of course," Ron Weasley said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I got your letter, and, well, I was really worried, so I took the car--with Mum's permission this time--and went to get you. But..."

Both Ron and Harry glanced at the bandage, soaked through with blood.

"Why did you do it, Harry?" Ron asked, clearly not sure how to go about asking this.

Harry's head remained tipped forward so he didn't have to look at Ron. He didn't speak.

"Come on..." The red-head leaned in, running his fingers through his friend's hair. "You can tell me"

"Ron...just...not right now," Harry murmured. "I'll tell you later...just not now"

Ron kissed his forehead. They'd shared many kisses--some passionate, some gentle, some rough.

They did it for fun and for exploration of their sexuality--nothing else.

Harry closed his eyes and let Ron press his lips to his. They were soft lips, but rather clumsy ones. Harry didn't seem to mind as he held the back of Ron's head and slid his tongue through his slightly parted lips.

Ron slid his hand down Harry's chest, stopping at the waistband of his trousers, where he knew Harry would stop him anyways.

Harry shakily pulled away, shaking his head.  
He might no have given into sex so easily, but halfway across England, someone else was.  
----  
Draco Malfoy shoved Blaise Zabini against the wall, roughly forcing his tongue against his to the sound of a moan.

Draco's hands moved expertly down to Blaise's zipper, pulling it down as he allowed the slightly younger boy to toy with his arousal.

"Mmmm...Blaise, let's not get ourselves all excited now, hmm?" the blonde purred as his member began to ache.

"Draco, have your way with me any way you want," Blaise whispered"

Draco unzipped his own pants, and pushed Blaise onto the bed. The boy has his knees bent, legs spread, and Draco slid right in.

The blonde slid in and out easily, allowing the boy underneath to clutch onto him. The moaning bugged him, but no matter. He was getting what he wanted.

The bed started to shake, the headboards creaking slightly and Draco pumped Blaise for all he was worth.

"Fuck, Draco," Blaise sighed, his whole body shaking.

Blaise came, biting his lip to keep from screaming.

Draco pounded inside of him one last time.

"Uhn..." he groaned. "Harry"

Draco slowed their pace as he leaned down and kissed Blaise whose eyes were wide in a way he wouldn't normally have kissed him.

"What the--? You just called out 'Harry'!" Blaise said huffily, pushing Draco off of him. "My name is NOT Harry"

Draco blinked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said nervously, pulling up his pants. "Of course your name is Blaise. How could I not know the name of my best friend, the person I've been sleeping with"  
Blaise stood up and stared blankly at the blonde, who was now smoking a cigarette.

"You fantasise about HIM instead of me," he said. "Youm DREAM about HIM instead of me, you THINK about him when you're with me, you wish I was him! You love him"

Draco looked away, letting out the smoke he'd just dragged in.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "Love who, exactly, Blaise, who do I love"

Blaise sighed.

"Harry Potter"

Draco scoffed.

"That's where you're wrong"

He took a deep drag of his cigarette.

"Malfoys don't love."


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you ready to go?" Ron asked.

Harry was getting dressed on the other side of the door which Ron was currently knocking on. 

The raven beauty opened the door.

"Umm...yeah," he said, forcing a small, polite smile.

The Weasleys travelled to Kings Cross station by way of their flying Ford Anglia.

"Hurry up now, the train's about to leave!" Mrs Weasley said urgently, rushing Harry, Ron and Ginny onto Platform 9 3/4. "Now Harry, dear, I'm afraid Arthur and I will have auditing to do this Christmas, so you, Ron and Ginny will have to stay at school this year. I'm sure you'll be okay, though."

Harry nodded. Auditing?

Molly kissed Harry on the forehead, then her son's forehead (while Ron protested, embarrassed), and then Ginny.

Before he knew it, Harry was being shuffled aboard the Hogwarts Express amidst a bunch of scared-looking first-years.

"Um...where should we--"

"Sorry, mate, gotta patrol the train for hoodlums," Ron said proudly of his prefect duties.

Harry turned to Ginny.

"Did you--"

"Sorry, I'm sitting with someone else," she said, running off in a flash of red hair and robes.

"Right," Harry said, suddenly finding himself very alone.

He walked up and down the aisles until--finally!--he spotted an empty seat...next to Draco Malfoy.

Harry took a deep breath and slid open the compartment door.

"Erm...you mind if I sit here?" he said hesitantly.

Draco looked up, and his grey eyes pierced through Harry's green ones like jagged daggers.

"If you must," he said simply; his voice lacked its malice, its venom. Harry was surprised by this.

"Umm...sorry, but are you okay?" he asked.

Draco merely looked across at the boy, his liped curled in a frown.

"Hey, I may not exactly be your best friend or anything, but I can tell when you're more of an asshole than usual," Harry smirked.

Draco rolled his eyes, sighing.

"Look, it's nothing. Even if it were, I wouldn't tell you," the blonde muttered. He folded his arms across his chest and looked away.

Harry blinked. Draco's words were to be expected, though.

"Okay, just saying..." he murmured.

All of a sudden, the train lurched, throwing Harry out of his seat; he clutched on to Draco's robes, and Draco had stuck out his arms to stop him from falling.

Harry could feel the blonde's breath sweep over his lips. His green eyes were staring directly into grey ones.

Neither of them seemed to be making a move to pull away.

"Are you okay?" Draco found himself asking.

Their lips were literally millimetres apart.

"I'm fine."

"Then would you mind getting the fuck off me?" Draco said, shoving Harry away.

"God, I cannot STAND you!" the raven beauty yelled. "Is it my fault the train threw me forwards?"

Draco just sat there, bored.

But beyond the exterior, his heart was beating a mile a minute.  
---  
"The strangest thing happened," Harry said, once he was settled on his bed in the boy's dormitory. "When the train moved forward like that, I was thrown against Malfoy."

Ron just sat there.

"So?"

"So...when our bodies were touching...I liked it," Harry murmured, blushing. "And I'm pretty sure he did, too"

"Oh, please," Ron laughed, "Malfoy's as straight as a board"

Harry smiled, but silently he wondered if that statement was true.  
---  
Draco's body was slick with the hot water pouring over his porcelain skin. He ran his hand through his wet blonde hair as the shower bathed him completely.

Draco closed his eyes and an image of Harry flashed inside his mind. He bit his lip. Harry and himself were rather busy doing rather naughty things.

"No," he told himself, opening his eyes. "Not you"

But still, Draco found himself hungrily closing his eyes again, his hand reaching down to his length as forbidden desires crept into his head once more.


	3. Chapter 3

"Harry! Oh, I've missed you!" Hermione squeaked at breakfast the next morning. She threw her arms around Harry's neck, her bushy hair interrupting his line of vision towards Draco.

"I've missed you, too," Harry said, smiling softly as she pulled away.

Hermione couldn't help but notice the boy looked distraced, his gaze not falling on her but rather on a tall, handsome blonde at the end of the Slytherin table.

"Harry, why are you looking at Malfoy?" she asked, inviting Harry to sit down next to her. "Did you two get into a fight already?" Hermione clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Uh...no," Harry replied, looking away from Draco quickly as icy grey eyes had found his. "There's just...something different about him, don't you think?"

Hermione glanced over at Draco.

"Well, maybe," she shrugged. "His hair is different. It's not so...well, perfect."

Harry sniggered.

"You fancy him or something?" Hermione asked, leaning in with a secretive smile.

"Wha--? Of course not," Harry said, though his face was flushed. "Not that he's aware of, anyway..." he added in an undertone.  
---  
"Oi, you two, not in the halls!" Ron said, passing a kissing couple on the fourth floor corridor. "Kids these days."

Harry laughed and shook his head as they headed for their next class, History of Magic.

"Umf!" Harry grunted as Draco shoved into his arm, the one that had been mangled and scarred with a blade one too many times.

"Geez, Harry, watch where you're going," Draco snarled with a backwards glance.

Harry froze and looked at the blonde head walking away from him.

"Did he just...?" he said, contemplating the way Draco had referred to him as 'Harry'. He rubbed his sore arm, looking at Ron.

"I believe he did," the freckled boy answered in shock. "He called you by your first name."  
---  
It was during Potions that Draco finally started acting like his regular self.

"Potter, you fucking moron, that was the wrong ingredient!" Draco hissed in annoyance.

Harry sighed.

"Well maybe if you did some of the mixing yourself, this wouldn't happen, Malfoy!" he spat in reply.

"Is there a problem here?"

Professor Snape had silently glided over from Neville's table, where apparently he'd managed to make a chickenpox potion, judging by the many red spots on his pudgy face which he was now scratching.

"Potter," Draco said with a sneer, "keeps mixing in the wrong ingredients."

"Well if you helped once and awhile, this wouldn't happen!" Harry retorted angrily.

They stared each other down.

"Now, now, boys," Snape said in a bored sort of monotone, "no need to fight. Just start a new potion."

Draco gaped at him.

"But--"

"NOW!"

In unison, both boys answered furiously, "No fuckin' way!"

Snape crossed his arms over his chest.

"Then may I suggest you work out your differences in detention. Tonight. NO excuses."

And without a second glance, Snape left the two boys at their table, shooting daggers in each other's eyes. 


	4. Chapter 4

"This is all your fault," Draco sneered at Harry, who was on his hands and knees polishing a statue.

"Fuck you, Draco," Harry muttered with a glower in the blonde's direction.

"Excuse me? What did you just call me?" Draco said in surprise, moving from his position against the wall to hover over Harry's form.

"What? I didn't call you anything," Harry answered, but he was panicking internally.

Draco pulled out a cigarette.

"Uh, do you mind? That's disgusting," Harry said as the blonde was about to light up.

Something indescribable flashed through Draco's expression, and for some reason, he put the cigarette back in its box.

Harry stood up, dusting off his jeans.

"That was the last one," he murmured. "Let's get out of here."

Draco didn't know whether he was relieved the detention was over, or disappointed that nothing had happened between himself and Harry.

"Dammit!" Harry cursed loudly, twisting the doorknob, pounding on the door, then turning around to look at Draco. "Snape's magically locked us in."

"What?" Draco said, pulling out his wand. "Alohamora."

Nothing.

"Why the hell would he do that!" Harry asked, kicking the door (then regretting it.)

"He probably wants us to 'work through our problems'," Draco scoffed.

"Haha, yeah, like on Oprah," Harry laughed.

Draco stopped laughing, confused.

"Oprah? What's an Oprah?" he asked.

"Ah...nothing," Harry answered. He sat down against the wall with his knees bent against his chest.

"I guess we might as well get comfortable," he said. "It looks like we'll be here awhile."

Draco nodded and sat down on the floor, several feet away from Harry.

"What should we do to pass the time?" Draco asked, glancing at the object of his affection.

"Hmm..." Harry loosened his Gryffindor tie. "Got any cards?"

Draco shook his head.

"Damn."

Both boys started searching the room for something to do.

"I found a book," Harry said, waving Draco over. "It's in some sort of native language, though...I can't read it."

"Let me see," the blonde said, grabbing the text away before Harry could hand it to him.

Draco studied it for a moment before saying, "Ahhh. Ohhhh. I seeeee."

"What?"

"I have no idea what language it is."

"Oh, fuck you," Harry said, whacking him with the book.

Both boys returned to their opposite corners, and a dead silence fell between them.

"Truth or dare?"

"What?"

"Truth or dare?" Harry repeated.

"Oh...uh...dare," Draco answered, sure he'd regret his decision.

"See that statue over there? The gargoyle?" Harry said mischieviously.

"Yes."

Harry pulled out a black, permanent marker from his cloak pocket.

"Draw on it."

Draco smirked, grabbing the marker from Harry. No big deal.

"And," the raven beauty said, continuing the dare, "it has to include a drawing of a penis."

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, very mature, Potter."

Nonetheless, the blonde began to draw--little doodles, nothing in particular--ending with the crude  
drawing of the reproductive organ he himself had attached to him.

"Okay, done. Your turn," Draco said slyly.

Harry thought for a moment before saying, "Truth."

Draco sat down, thinking of a question to ask. He smirked when he'd thought of a good one.

"Tell me, is the famous Boy Who Lived the sex God everyone says he is?" the blonde asked, leaning back against the wall, but keeping his grey eyes upon the now-blushing Harry.

"Um...no," the raven beauty said softly.

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? So how many times have you done it?" he asked curiously.

Harry didn't answer.

"Sorry, but I believe you can only ask one question!" he said. "Your turn, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sighed and mimicked Harry's last choice: "Truth."

Harry sat thoughtfully, thinking hard about the question he would ask. Then it hit him.

"Why do you hate me?" he asked hesitantly.

Draco didn't know how to answer. There were only two words he could think of saying at that precise moment:

"I don't."

Silence hung between them for several moments.

"You obviously don't like me," Harry muttered, clutching his knees close.

"Well...I'm a stupid person," Draco said. "I can't show people I like them. I don't make friends well."

"Ha! You've got that right," Harry sniggered. "What, do you have any friends, Malfoy? Any? Or do you just lay awake at night, all alone, so desperate, thinking about all the girlfriends you could have had, that you start to feel yourself up?"

Draco flushed with anger.

"Shut up, Potter," he said warningly.

"Ohhh, what? Do you masturbate at night? Do you?"

"I said, shut UP, Potter!"

Draco shoved Harry against the wall, his fist colliding with his jaw. Harry groaned slightly before knocking Draco back, landing on top of him on the floor.

"You little--"

"--such a bastard--"

Limbs were flailing everywhere, getting tangled up in each other, rather ugly names were yelled into an echoing room, until Harry realised he was quite turned on by the closeness of their bodies.

Draco had dragged Harry up by the collar and pressed him up against the wall.

Both boys were panting, slightly sweaty, and still trying to hit each other when the unthinkable happened.

Draco pressed his lips against Harry's in one unforgettable motion.

Their lips crushed together, Harry's hands running through Draco's soft hair.

There was the murmur of Snape's voice approaching, and they quickly pulled apart.

"Well?"

Harry cleared his throat, glancing at the floor.

"I see you two didn't manage to keep off of each other," Snape said. "I guess that means another detention. Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Don't be tardy."

Suddenly, as Harry walked out the door, he couldn't wait to serve detention with Draco Malfoy. 


End file.
